Sapphire And Burgundy
by Aquamonkey
Summary: When all is said and done, do not believe that the matter is finished. Business is business, after all...*Rated M for bad language, moderate blood/violence and a very temperamental Tyrant. Flirting too*


***A/N: I am wondering if I should change the name of this to Burgundy And Sapphire. I am 50/50 on either name, so I would like some input, please. You're reader knowledge is more than likely far superior to my writing skill, lol. Thanks guys. Hope you enjoy this. Of course, I do not own Resident Evil, or any of it's characters, Capcom do. I just like playing with them,** **and seeing what my brain can come up with. Nor do I own the aftershave I mention, or Dior***

Sapphire And Burgundy

Airs And Graces

Quinn Adams stood, utterly bored on a luxury liner, one of several that belonged to the pharmaceutical company, Umbrella. She had not been informed of why she was here, and why she had to dress up in a dress that screamed vanity to her, which she despised. She much preferred blending in to the crowd, not sticking out like a sore thumb. As an intelligence agent, it took her all over the globe, and her agency spent millions in keeping her safe, and supplying her with the latest in spyware and gadgets.

Finally, after boring speeches about the ship, the Majestic (Although, to Quinn, it screamed arrogance) the Captain invited her to join his table for their dinner and drinks. The liner's décor fared no better with her judgement. It was tacky, red and white plastered around, and that silly Umbrella logo that looked like a child had drawn it, when they had nothing else to do.

Quinn sighed and sat down, smoothing out her vintage, burgundy lace Dior gown, which looked stunning, but it clung in the wrong places. It was almost unbearably tight in the back, and around her waist and hips, it clung like a second skin. It reached down to her calves, and would have grazed the floor had she not worn heels. They were Dior too, and made from a very soft satin. They were dark red, but to the naked eye, appeared black.

A voice behind her prompted her out of her reverie, and she turned to see a waiter, who had asked her what she would like for her starter. He flashed his bright, straight white teeth in a smile and she smiled back. Niceties were not her forte, but she gave her smile quite the effort, and it seemed to work. She ordered the salmon en croute, and heard a few noises of approval. It seemed that that particular dish was a favourite among some other guests. The waiter nodded, wrote down her order and walked away.

_Time to people watch. Okay. Hmm, captain looks a little young. I always thought of them as being older. The homely, grandfather types, whom you can have a good old chat with. A few suits, they must all work for Umbrella. And their significant others, who all appear to be reapplying their makeup. Typical, although…._

Quinn took out her mirror and looked at her face.

_Okay, good. I don't look like a panda, nor is there lipstick on my teeth._

Another man's voice made her jump and she dropped the mirror. Before it hit the ground, extremely quick reflexes picked it up, and Quinn looked up to see a man smirked down at her. She snatched back her mirror from his outstretched palm and turned back around, refusing to acknowledge this man.

"Thanks". She muttered, and he laughed.

"Not one for talking, are we? Certainly not the Intel I received on you. I highly doubt it was wrong however, incompetence is not tolerated when you work for me".

Quinn felt a cold shudder make its way down her spine. The man sat next to her and held out his gloved hand. She turned and studied this stranger.

_Wearing a suit, like all of the men in here. Expensive, so he has money. I'd say, Hugo Boss, definitely. Ah, he is wearing Acqua Di Parma. That takes me back, it smells so refined. Also, very expensive. So either rich, or a rich show off. He also has sunglasses on. Perhaps he is trying to look cool, or he may have __photophobia. Whoever you are, you are getting the attention of pretty much all of the women in here, and they look rather pissed that you are over here, and not over there._

* * *

"Wesker".

Quinn nodded.

"Quinn Adams".

They shook hands. Wesker called her bluff within seconds of taking a glass of wine.

"What is your mission? I know you aren't here simply to look pretty, Ms. Adams".

Quinn could have groaned from Wesker being on point. But she guessed from his demeanor and the way he held himself that he was no mere person. No. He was adept, smart and knew what needed to be known. He had more than just wealth.

"Wesker, you know far too much already. I honestly have no idea. All I know is that I was sent an invitation, and here I am. I doubt it is to kill, I don't even have any weapons other than my body, and in this dress, and I am not killing anyone. Hell, if I could move, it would be a miracle. I'd ask about you, but I get the feeling that you aren't the personal information sharing type. Umbrella did well when they hired you. You seem like the only man here that actually does something other than turn up in a suit, and drink wine all day".

Wesker laughed and sat down, next to her.

"Unlike the men in this room, I actually do my job, although, I did not expect to be invited".

Quinn called his bluff, and he was not pleased. Not pleased, at all.

"Ah, you betrayed them. Maybe they invited you here to kill you".

Wesker lowered his sunglasses and scarlet eyes flashed. Quinn almost fell off her chair. She gripped onto its sides for dear life.

"Okay, my informant did not tell me that you have red eyes. A traitor to Umbrella, that's how I know about you".

The man groaned.

"Miss Adams, if I wished to hear about myself, I would do the talking. You telling me what I already know is pointless. You knowing it however, is disturbing".

Quinn smirked. This fiercely aggravated the tyrant, and the viruses in his body raged an internal war. They wanted out. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"You won't be leaving this liner alive, Quinn".

"Oh? A body bag with my name on it? How very quaint. But, if I am correct in why I believe you were invited here…..then you won't be leaving this liner alive either. They'll be a body bag with your name on it too".

Wesker stood, and lent against the back of her chair. Quinn resisted the urge to look up, but the smell of his aftershave was making her a little light headed. She closed her eyes and felt another shudder go down her spine. Only this time, it was causes by something freezing, almost caressing the nape of her neck.

"You are missing one, very valuable piece of information".

Quinn held her breath, and had to force out her words. She was beginning to panic.

"And that is?"

Wesker moved further in, and an audible gasp came from the agent.

"I'm already dead".

And then, he walked away, casually strolling, as if nothing had happened.

Quinn just sat there, picking her nails. She opened her mirror again to see her pupils, blown wide with fear. Her breath was ragged, and she knew she needed to leave the room, before she possibly blacked out.

The agent stood, and figuring that her meal would arrive in five minutes or so, she left the room and looked for the sign that said 'Toilets'. She scanned the corridor and soon located the sign.

* * *

Quinn walked into the toilet and locked the door. She put her head in her hands, and her elbows on the marble of the countertop.

She had met some scary, twisted people in her life, but none had the social skills to appear as nothing more, than a well-dressed business man, who was calm, collected and didn't try to kill her after five minutes.

But she knew. She knew that the knowledge she had would lead her, straight into an early grave. And despite her job being at times, dangerous, at thirty two, she did not wish to die just yet.

_If Wesker wants to play, then I will play his sick, little game. But I won't be the pawn. Oh no. Men like you need more, and more, and more. Nothing is ever good enough for you, for long. Oh I'll give you more, you arrogant piece of crap. I'll mess with your mind, get right in there and twist it. _

_I always enjoy a challenge…._


End file.
